


Duet

by always1895



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Bitty dances to beyonce, Bitty figure skates, Coming Out, Duets, F/M, High School Choir AU, Jack is passionate about the bescherelle, Jack speaks French, Lardo and Shitty ship Zimbits so hard, Le Petit Prince - Freeform, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shameless references to high school musical, Singing, So much singing, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8312368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always1895/pseuds/always1895
Summary: Jack reluctantly joins the choir in his last year of high school on the advice of his therapist. Bitty is a choir veteran. They're paired up for a duet project that lasts the entire semester. Spoiler alert: they're going to fall in love. There will be hockey and baking and lots of singing. So much singing. So many duets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically me reliving my glory days of high school choir. I peaked too early, obviously. Humour me. 
> 
> When I explained this idea to my friend she said it reminded her of High School Musical, so that's what you have to look forward to, I guess?
> 
> Tags will be updated as I go!

“You need to do something other than hockey, Jack,” his therapist said in that typical gentle therapy voice that more often than not grated on Jack’s nerves. 

“But-“ 

“I’m not saying you quit hockey, not at all,” she continued. “But you need something else too. All of your energy, all of your focus goes into hockey. It makes the stakes too high, Jack. It’s no wonder you get so anxious. Speak to your guidance counsellors, find out what’s available during the spare period you were leaving for skating. You already skate plenty.”

Jack sighed resignedly but didn’t bother arguing. Maybe he could take photography or something.

//

“Well, there’s still a space in vocal class,” Mr. Meyers said, after clicking around on his computer for a minute. 

“You want me to join choir?” Jack asked incredulously. 

“Well, there are prerequisites to take it at the grade twelve level, but seeing as you have a doctor’s note, I’ll speak to Ms. Thompson, pull some strings. Shouldn’t be a problem,” Mr. Meyers promised with a smile. 

Jack nodded tightly and forced out a “thank you,” before bolting to his first period history class. 

//

On the third day of first semester, Jack got a notice in his homeroom that he’d officially been registered for vocal class. 

//

When Jack told Shitty that he was taking fourth period choir, Shitty laughed for a full minute.

When Jack explained to Shitty why he was taking fourth period choir, Shitty clapped him on the shoulder and promised not to tell the team, as long as he could come to the performances.

When Jack reluctantly agreed, Shitty grinned and teasingly saluted his captain as he left.

When Jack was on his way to choir for the first time, Shitty sent him a text.

 **The Shits:** _Sing your heart out, Cap._

And then:

 **The Shits:** _Really though, it won't be as terrible as you think. And I've heard you sing in the showers after practice when you think everyone's left, you're not half bad._

Just when Jack was about to thank Shitty for the reassurance, his phone buzzed again.

 **The Shits:** _You're basically Troy Bolton, you know. Maybe you'll meet your Gabriella. Or Gabriel._

Jack couldn't help but grin at the text. Shitty really was the best friend he could ask for, he always knew exactly what to say.

 **Captain Zimms:** _High School Musical reference: you owe me ten laps at practice tonight. You know the rules._

 **The Shits:** _Get your head in the choir game, Zimmermann._

Jack couldn't help but chuckle out loud at that. For weeks after Shitty had forced the team to watch High School Musical, he tried at every practice to get them all singing. Which had led to the establishment of the High School Musical Reference Rule. It had been necessary, they weren't getting any practicing done with Shitty trying to choreograph all the time.

 **Captain Zimms:** _That's twenty laps. Watch it, Knight._

And with that, Jack walked in to the choir room.

//

Bitty loves choir. Everything about it.

He loves singing, obviously. He loves harmonies. He loves sheet music, and the special black folders, and the white blouses they wear for performances. He loves the choir room, he loves Ms. Thompson, and he loves that his best friend is the pianist. He loves the other choir members. He loves lining up by height. He loves competing at music festivals. He loves solos and duets and trios and full choir numbers. He loves vocal warm-ups, and sight singing, and new songs. In short, he loves everything about choir. Everything.

He'd first joined in grade nine, when he was too timid to ever volunteer for solos and his voice was still constantly cracking no matter what register he was singing in. But now, three years later, Bitty had become a bit of a staple in the Samwell choir. If he wasn't to be found in the home ec kitchen, he could be found in the choir room. Sometimes with Lardo as she played the piano to allow him to practice, sometimes practicing on his own, sometimes with other students, helping them learn their parts, or sometimes sorting the sheet music, polishing the folders, or trying to fix that one music stand that was always loose.

It was only day three and Bitty had already gotten himself into a routine. His harder classes were in the morning (French and chemistry), he had third period lunch, and then choir and home ec. His afternoons were just plain fun, and he had the same lunch period as Lardo, so he really had nothing to complain about. 

He and Lardo were in the choir room fifteen minutes before vocal class was meant to start. She was messing around on the piano, and Bitty was humming absently as he leafed through some old sheet music he’d found the day before. And that was when Jack Zimmermann, Captain of the Samwell Senior Boys’ Ice Hockey team, walked in. 

Bitty couldn’t speak for Lardo, but he was just so darn shocked to see Jack in the choir room that he wasn’t quite sure what to say. It seemed rude to ask if he was lost, but he certainly looked it. 

“Sorry, I’m too early, aren’t I?” Jack asked, turning back to the door. “Shit, you probably use the room for practicing, sorry to interrupt.”

“Too early?” Lardo asked curiously. “Are you having hockey practice in here later or something?”

“Ah, no,” Jack replied. “Hockey practice will be at the rink as usual. Not sure how we’d practice ice hockey without, you know, the ice.”

“A valid point,” Lardo said, nodding sagely. 

“Yeah. I’m actually here for the uh…vocal class?” Jack rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Bitty finally recovered from the shock of having Jack Zimmermann in the choir room with him. Gosh, he was even better-looking up close. But that had never stopped Bitty before, and besides, choir was as area he was very familiar with. “Vocal class starts in ten minutes or so, you’re in the right place. We’re just –“

Bitty was interrupted when Ms. Thompson entered the room. “Mr. Zimmermann, welcome aboard. Mr. Meyers spoke to me this morning about you joining the class. Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much at all, you should be just fine.”

Jack smiled tightly, looking slightly less than convinced, though Ms. Thompson didn’t notice as she had already turned to Bitty. 

“Eric, we’re going to be pairing off for duets at the end of the week. Would you mind pairing with Jack? Seems right to have a seasoned pro to help him out.”

“Course I don’t mind,” Bitty replied. “Happy to do it.”

“Good, that’s settled,” Ms. Thompson said, looking pleased with herself. “Now, I’ve just got to run to the washroom before class. Eric, could you pull out ‘Down by the Sally Gardens’? I’m thinking we’ll start with that as our first group number.”

Bitty nodded and was rifling through the sheet music cabinets before she’d even left the room. 

“Eric, was it?” Jack asked awkwardly. “Hope being paired with me doesn’t put you out too much.”

“Not at all, darlin’,” Bitty replied, setting a stack of music on the front desk. “Don’t you worry about me. And call me Bitty.”

“Bitty?” Jack asked, sounding rather confused. 

“It’s what my friends call me,” Bitty replied with a shrug. “Because my last name is Bittle.”

“It’s not just that,” Lardo piped in. “It’s also because when he was young, he–“

“Yes, thank you, Lardo,” Bitty interrupted, glaring at her. 

“Lardo?” Jack repeated, sounding even more confused. 

“Yeah, it’s because I –“

Lardo was cut off again, though this time it was by the bell and a rush of choir kids storming the room to fight for the best music stands. No one wanted that darn loose one. 

Jack was looking rather lost, so Bitty made his way over to him. “You can come sit with me, we don’t have sections yet,” he said, gesturing to where he’d set up his chair and stand. “Eventually we’ll be divided in sections. You know, tenor, alto, soprano, that sort of thing. And we’ll also be lined up by height. And Lordy but you’re tall, you’ll definitely be in the back. But for now, you can share my stand. Just grab a chair.”

For a moment, Bitty was worried that he’s overstepped, that he was treating Jack like a child, and that he was incorrect in assuming that Jack would even want to sit next to him at all. But then – 

“Thank you,” Jack said, a small but genuine smile tugging his lips up ever so slightly as he held Bitty’s gaze for a short moment before walking off to grab a chair. 

Lardo gave Bitty a knowing look over the piano and he rolled his eyes, even though he knew his cheeks were flushing pink. And if Lardo coughed loudly when Bitty scooted his chair ever so slightly closer to Jack’s, well, it was probably just because she had caught a cold. There was a bug going around. Probably.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty and Jack get teased by their friends and interact briefly with their families.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Canadian, I'm not Quebecois, but I do speak French (thank you French Immersion). I'll try to keep the French to a minimum. Translations are in the end notes. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left kudos or comments on the first chapter! I hope you guys like this one just as much. :)

"Jack!"

Jack looked over his shoulder to see Shitty weaving down the sea of people towards him. He stopped and waited for him to catch up. "So, how was it?" Shitty asked eagerly.

Jack shrugged noncommittally. "Could have been worse, I guess," he replied. "I have to stop at my locker to get my history book, you coming?"

Shitty fell in to step beside Jack without verbally answering his question. "So do you have a solo yet?" he asked. "Am I going to get to hear you sing for real?"

"We're doing duets," Jack replied, stopping at his locker and spinning the combination lock until it clicked open. 

"Duets!" Shitty exclaimed excitedly. "Who's your partner? Are you going to sing 'Breaking Free' and fall in love?"

"That's thirty laps," Jack warned, slamming his locker shut. "We're not singing High School Musical, I don't think. And his name is Bit...Eric."

"Bit Eric?" Shitty asked, amused, as they set off towards their history class. 

"Eric," Jack said again. "Bitty is his nickname."

"Bitty, huh?" Shitty asked, both eyebrows raised practically to his hairline. "Brah, you're already on a nickname level with him? Are you sure his name isn't Gabriella fucking Montez?"

"I hope you know that I'm going to make you skate every single one of those forty laps you owe me and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it," Jack said as they entered the classroom. 

"Is he cute?" Shitty asked, ignoring Jack's comment about the laps. 

"We're not talking about this anymore," Jack said firmly, avoiding Shitty's gaze. 

"He is!" Shitty said gleefully. 

"Don't make me regret telling you about choir," Jack said, trying and failing to keep the pleading note out of his voice. 

Shitty didn't answer, probably more so because the teacher had begun to talk rather than out of the kindness of his heart, and the shit-eating grin remained on his face for the entirety of fifth period. 

//

"So," Lardo said, as soon as they had left the choir room. 

"What?" Bitty asked, weaving past some freshmen. 

"You like him," Lardo stated, smiling meaningfully at him. 

"I do not!" Bitty protested, though he could feel his cheeks heating. "I was just being nice."

"Sure, nice," Lardo said sceptically. "You can share my stand, Jack. Come sit next to me, Jack. Can't wait to sing duets with you, Jack," she continued teasingly. 

"I never said that!" Bitty hissed. "And stop saying his name, someone's going to hear you."

"I'm just saying, you could definitely do worse," Lardo said, arching an eyebrow. "He's attractive, and he seems nice enough. Still not really sure what he's doing in choir, but you might as well take advantage."

"I'm not going to be taking advantage of anything," Bitty said firmly. "Besides, he's probably straight."

"So you've thought about it," Lardo said with a knowing grin. "I knew it!"

"Shut up!" Bitty hissed again. "I haven't thought about it, I was just saying. And shouldn't you be going to class?"

"I'll walk you to the kitchen, I can be late for English Lit. This is way more important. Is he your type then?" she asked curiously. 

Bitty groaned and refused to say a word for the rest of their walk. 

//

After practice, and after Jack had supervised Shitty’s forty laps, he was left alone at the rink. He immediately started skating laps of his own. It helped clear his head, just pushing as hard as he could until his legs were burning and then pushing even harder. 

The choir thing was weighing on his mind. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t worried about it; that he wasn’t anxious about singing in front of people, that he wasn’t nervous about the team finding out. He knew, logically, that the team would support him. They were a good bunch of guys, not a hostile bone in their bodies, but he would still be embarrassed. 

But…it hadn’t been that bad, the first class. The teacher had been nice, and he already had a partner for the duets, a partner who knew what he was doing. Eric. Or rather, Bitty. He seemed nice so far. He’d taken Jack under his wing, and he didn’t seem annoyed to have him as a partner for the duet assignment.

Jack had just decided that choir had the potential of being bearable and was beginning to slow his pace ever so slightly when a voice echoed in the empty rink. 

«Tu viens, toi? »

Jack skated over to where his dad was waiting, leaning on the boards. 

«Ouais, je viens, » he replied. 

«La pratique, elle s’est bien passée? Pourquoi t’as l’air tellement stressé? Tu patines fort aujourd’hui,» his dad commented. 

Jack shrugged. « Je patine fort tous les jours, » he responded, hoisting himself off the ice and over the boards. «La pratique s’est bien passée. On quitte? » 

His dad nodded, looking as though he wanted to ask more but leaving it at that, for which Jack was grateful. 

//

"Jack Zimmermann is in choir?" Bitty's dad asked in surprise. "I've always wished I could get him to join the football team, but that kid is just so darn committed to hockey. I'm surprised he agrees to take his skates off around the school."

Bitty shrugged. "I was surprised too," he said, setting his fork down and standing to take his empty plate to the sink. 

"Well, new friends are always a good thing," Bitty's mom stated cheerfully. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine. And you know he's always welcome here if you two need to practice your singing."

Once they'd had dessert (the cupcakes Bitty had made in home ec) and washed the dishes, Bitty was up in his room trying to concentrate on molecular compounds, but his mind kept drifting back to Jack. What was he doing in choir? Could he even sing? Was Bitty going to manage not to embarrass himself in front of him?

Bitty eventually gave up on trying to read through the chapter in his textbook and got ready for bed. By the time he fell asleep, he'd come to several conclusions. His mom was right, they could be friends. Yes, Jack was handsome, but Bitty could handle that. Probably. And as long as Jack took choir as seriously as Bitty planned to, they would get along just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> «Tu viens, toi? » = Are you coming?
> 
> «Ouais, je viens. » = Yeah, I'm coming. 
> 
> «La pratique, elle s’est bien passée? Pourquoi t’as l’air tellement stressé? Tu patines fort aujourd’hui.» = Did practice go well? Why do you seem so stressed? You're skating hard today.
> 
> « Je patine fort tous les jours. » = I skate hard every day. 
> 
> «La pratique s’est bien passée. On quitte? » = Practice went well. Are we leaving?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choir, day 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the previous one are both pretty short so I decided to post them both at once. I might just keep most of the chapters in this story on the shorter side so I can post more often? I haven't decided yet.

The next day, five minutes before vocal class, Bitty was complaining to Lardo about his French teacher. 

“And Monsieur Bernier isn’t even that good of a teacher! When I asked him to explain why he gave me a sixty on my presentation, he just told me to read his comments! But I don’t understand his comments because they’re in French!” Bitty exclaimed, pacing around, a frown set deep on his forehead.

Lardo was expressing her sympathy when the bell rang and the rest of the class filed in. When Jack arrived, he grabbed himself a chair and set it next to Bitty’s again. Bitty pointedly avoided the looks Lardo was giving him over Jack’s shoulder. 

Class began with Ms. Thompson asking them to pair off for the duet project. As everyone scrambled around, Jack cleared his throat awkwardly and Bitty turned to face him. 

“You’re sure you still don’t mind being paired with me?” Jack asked.

“Of course I don’t mind, don’t be silly!” Bitty replied with a smile. “Besides, I heard you singing during warmups yesterday, you can carry a tune just fine.” Bitty was not as sure about all of this as he was making it seem. Jack being able to sing scales with the rest of them was in no way an indication that he'd be able to hold his own part in a duet, but he seemed so worried and Bitty couldn't bear to see anyone all anxious. 

“Oh. Can I? That’s…that’s good,” Jack said uncertainly. 

Bitty was about to reassure him when Ms. Thompson came over with a hat. “Alright, since you two are already paired up, you can pick first!” she said enthusiastically. “Every three weeks we’ll have a new theme for our duets. The first theme is foreign languages, so you’ll pick your language out of the hat, and then you can pick your song.”

Bitty nodded, and looked over at Jack, who gestured for him to pick. Bitty stuck his hand in the hat and pulled out a small slip of paper. 

“Latin,” he read, already beginning to smile. “Oh, Jack, this is good! We’ll have so many choices, there are so many songs in Latin! Obviously, it’ll be something more classical, but we can find something fun. Actually, there was one that I came across the other day that could work, I’ll have to…” Bitty trailed off when he noticed Jack looking longingly at the pair beside them, who had pulled “French” out of the hat. “Is everything alright?” he asked, concerned.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Jack said awkwardly. “I just…don’t know any Latin? Do choir people all know Latin? I didn’t know that was a requirement.”

Bitty giggled. “No, of course not! But as far as foreign languages go, Latin is one of the easier ones for singing. It’s really just pronounced the way it’s written. But don’t worry, I can help you, we’ll go over it together.”

“That’s…thank you,” Jack said gratefully. “Okay. I’ll take your word that it’s not as difficult as it sounds. I do wish we’d gotten French though, I speak it at home with my dad, you know.”

“Really?” Lardo asked, pulling up a chair in front of them and plopping down. 

“What are you doing?” Bitty asked suspiciously. 

“Ms. Thompson told me to talk to all of the pairs, figure out a practice schedule so everyone gets some piano time. But you can just text me about that. Now, back to the French thing,” Lardo continued, turning to Jack. “You know, Bitty could use a tutor. He found out today that he failed a presentation.”

“I didn’t fail!” Bitty protested indignantly. “I got a sixty!”

“Well, I uh…I could help you?” Jack suggested uncertainly. “Since you said you’d teach me the Latin, and you’re helping me with the singing and stuff. I could help you with the French, if you wanted.”

‘Isn’t that nice,” Lardo said clapping her hands together and looking far too pleased with herself. “Text me about piano time, Bitty.” And with that, she stood and dragged her chair over to the next pair. 

“Well, you’re just too kind,” Bitty said, smiling at Jack instead of scowling at Lardo’s back like he was tempted to do. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I sure could use a bit of help.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Jack said quickly. “It actually makes me feel a bit better, that I have something to offer in return.” He offered Bitty a small smile before continuing. “Here, why don’t you give me your phone and I’ll put my number in so we can figure out a time to meet? I have practice most days after school, but I’m sure we can fit something in somewhere. And I guess we’ll have to get together to practice the duet eventually too.”

It was the most words that Bitty had ever heard Jack say consecutively and it took him a minute to respond, shocked as he was that Jack Zimmermann wanted to give him his number so they could meet up outside of school hours. For a school assignment, but still. He eventually managed to regain control over his faculties enough to fish his phone out of his bag and hand it over to Jack, who quickly entered his number and handed it back. 

Class was over shortly afterwards, and Jack dashed off as he’d done the previous day. Lardo was hurrying as well, though she stopped in front of Bitty for a quick moment as he was putting his stand away. 

“I have to be on time to English Lit today, we have a quiz, but I just wanted to say you’re welcome,” she smirked, dashing off before Bitty could reply. 

Bitty did scowl at her back this time around, though it faded quickly off his face as he looked down at his phone. He opened his contacts, and smiled softly when he saw Jack’s name. 

“Don’t just smile at it, text him!” Lardo shouted from the doorway.

Bitty jumped. “I thought you couldn’t be late,” he commented, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his bag. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Lardo said with a roll of her eyes. “But you’d better text him, Eric Bittle. Don’t let my devious plan go to waste.”

And with that, she took off down the hall. Bitty pulled his phone out and opened a blank message. He stared at it for a long moment before discarding it and pocketing his phone again. Later. He would text Jack later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty texts Jack. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter so I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Also I hope it all makes sense. Their names are supposed to represent what their contact name is in the phone of the person they're talking to (for example: "The Shits" is Shitty's name in Jack's phone, and "Captain Zimms" is Jack's name in Shitty's phone. But Jack also shows up at "Cap," "Zimmermann," etc, depending on who he's talking to). Let me know if any of it is unclear?

**The Shits:** _Why do you keep checking your phone?_

**Captain Zimms:** _Just distracted, I guess._

**The Shits:** _You, distracted in history class? You fucking love this shit. I don't buy it. You're waiting for a text._

**Captain Zimms:** _I'm not waiting for a text. I was just checking the time._

**The Shits:** _There's a giant ass clock right in front of you. Did you give someone your number?_

**Captain Zimms:** _That is none of your business._

**The Shits:** _You totally did! It was Bitty, wasn't it? You gave Itty Bitty your number and now you're checking your phone every two minutes hoping he's going to text. Jack, that's adorable._

**Captain Zimms:** _Shut up. It's only so that we can arrange a time to meet._

**The Shits:** _So it was him! And you're meeting outside of school. This is fucking beautiful._

**Captain Zimms:** _Oh my God, Shitty. It's for the duet assignment, and he needs some help with his French._

**The Shits:** _Needs help with his French. Sure. I've heard that one before. His French kissing, more like._

**Captain Zimms:** _I'm never telling you anything ever again._

**The Shits:** _You love me._

//

**Lards:** _Have you texted him yet?_

**Bitty:** _I thought you had a quiz? Don’t text during a quiz, Lardo!_

**Lards:** _Never mind that, answer the question._

**Bitty:** _He just gave me his number 15 minutes ago! And we're both in class! I'm making a soufflé!_

**Lards:** _That's all irrelevant. Have you texted him yet?_

**Bitty:** _No, I haven't. But I will, okay?_

**Lardo:** _How about now? Have you done it yet?_

**Bitty:** _No! It's only been four minutes since you last asked me! I'M MAKING A SOUFFLE._

**Lards:** _You can multitask. You're texting me right now. You could text him too._

**Bitty:** _I don't want to smother him, okay? Or make it seem like I'm too overbearing or something._

**Lards:** _Aww, Bitty. You like him a lot, don't you._

**Bitty:** _Shut up! I do not! I just don't know what to say._

**Lards:** _Oh, sweet Bitty. So young, so in love._

**Bitty:** _You're only two months older than me. And I'm not in love, stop saying that!_

**Lards:** _Two months older, two months wiser. Text him._

**Bitty:** _I'm not saving you any soufflé._

//

**Holster:** _Rans was humming "We're All In This Together" in Geography this morning._

**Zimmermann:** _Tell him he owes me ten laps._

//

**Mama:** _Do you need a ride to figure skating today?_

**Eric:** _I can walk, Mama._

**Mama:** _What's on your mind? You always want to walk when you're thinking about something._

**Eric:** _Nothing, really. It's just a nice day._

**Mama:** _Well, alright. I'll pick you up afterwards._

**Eric:** _Thanks, Mama._

//

**Ransom:** _Jack, it was Shitty's fault! He was singing it in the weight room this morning._

**Cap:** _Then you both owe me ten laps._

**Ransom:** _Aye aye, Captain._

//

**Lards:** _Have you texted him yet???_

**Bitty:** _No. Skating's about to start. I'll text him later._

**Lards:** _Bitty. I'm aging waiting for you to do something._

**Bitty:** _Then mind your own business!_

**Lards:** _Are you really not saving me any soufflé?_

**Bitty:** _I'll give you some at lunch tomorrow._

//

**The Shits:** _Has he texted you yet?_

**Captain Zimms:** _Shitty. He hadn't texted me ten minutes ago when you asked me after practice._

**The Shits:** _Is that a no?_

**Captain Zimms:** _That's a no. Now stop asking._

**The Shits:** _Don't worry, I'll sure he'll text you soon._

**Captain Zimms:** _Thanks. But I'm not worried._

**The Shits:** _Of course you aren't._

//

**Bitty:** _I don’t know what to say._

**Lards:** _Are you asking for my help?_

**Bitty:** _I guess so._

**Lards:** _Just say who it is and that you’re texting him so he has your number too, to make it easier to organize something for the duets. Tell him I need to know when you want to practice with the piano or something, I don’t mind if you use me as an excuse._

**Bitty:** _Okay. Thanks, Lards._

**Lards:** _Anytime. You know that. Do I get extra soufflé now, for being so helpful?_

**Bitty:** _Don’t push your luck._

//

**Unknown Number:** _Hey! It's Bitty, from choir? I figured I should text you so you have my number too._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Oh, hey. Yeah, thanks._

**Eric Bittle:** _We should figure out a time to meet. If you still want to, of course._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Yeah, for sure. Technically, I have hockey every day after school. But I can change that, give the team morning practice once a week so we can meet after school whichever day works for you._

**Eric Bittle:** _Oh, are you sure? I don't want to mess up your practice schedule._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Don't worry about it. The schedule hasn't been set in stone yet. Besides, it'll be good for the team to get up early once in a while._

**Eric Bittle:** _Well, if you're sure. Wednesday afternoons then?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Sounds good to me. The team is going to love Wednesday morning practices._

**Eric Bittle:** _Are they going to be mad?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Probably. But it doesn't matter, I'm the captain so they'll practice when I tell them to. They'll get used to it._

**Eric Bittle:** _Well, okay! Sounds good to me! :)_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I guess I'll see you tomorrow in class?_

**Eric Bittle:** _Yeah. See you tomorrow, Jack._

//

**Bitty:** _I texted him, so you can leave me alone now._

**Lards:** _How did it go? What did he say?_

**Bitty:** _It was fine. We're meeting on Wednesdays after school._

**Lards:** _Doesn't he have hockey like every single day?_

**Bitty:** _Yeah, but he said he'd move Wednesday afternoon practice to Wednesday morning._

**Lards:** _Bitty. He rescheduled hockey practice for you. I'm pretty sure that means 'I love you' in hockey bro speak._

**Bitty:** _Oh my God. Goodnight Lardo._

**Lards:** _Goodnight, Eric Bittle-Zimmermann._

**Bitty:** _LARDO._

**Lards:** _You're right, your last name is way too long that way. When the time comes, don't hyphenate._

**Bitty:** _GOODNIGHT._

//

**Captain Zimms:** _Before you ask again, yes, he texted me._

**The Shits:** _And you were so fucking excited that you just had to let me know. Aww Jack, do you want to have a sleepover and talk about our crushes?_

**Captain Zimms:** _You've been bugging me all day, I figured I might as well save you the effort of asking again. And I don't have a crush on him._

**The Shits:** _Can we still have a sleepover? I don't know if you're aware, but there are two more High School Musical movies._

**Captain Zimms:** _You're going to have laps every day this week if you keep this up._

**The Shits:** _It'll be worth it if I get a sleepover._

**Captain Zimms:** _Maybe._

**The Shits:** _I’ll take that as a yes. So, what did Itty Bitty say?_

**Captain Zimms:** _We just planned to meet on Wednesdays. And stop calling him that._

**The Shits:** _Sick, do we get a day off?_

**Captain Zimms:** _Nope. Practice at 7:00am on Wednesdays._

**The Shits:** _Brutal, Captain. But for the sake of your love life, I'll sacrifice an hour of sleep once a week._

**Captain Zimms:** _You should do it for the sake of our team, but I'll take what I can get. Tell the guys, would you?_

**The Shits:** _About your love life?_

**Captain Zimms:** _No, Shitty. Not about my love life. About Wednesday morning practice._

**The Shits:** _You got it._

//

**Holster:** _Shitty said we’re having practice before school on Wednesdays now?_

**Zimmermann:** _Yep._

**Holster:** _But that’s so early! Why?_

**Zimmermann:** _Because I said so. Problem?_

**Holster:** _Not at all, Cap._

//

**The Shits:** _They all want to know why you’re making them get up at the ass crack of dawn. What do I tell them?_

**Captain Zimms:** _Tell them to be there on time Wednesday morning or else. Or, better yet, don’t tell them anything. I’ll bring it up tomorrow afternoon at practice. And anyone who complains can skate laps._

**The Shits:** _You could just tell them about choir. They’ll be cool with it. Remember how fucking chill everyone was when Johnson took that pottery class?_

**Captain Zimms:** _I know. I will tell them. Eventually. For now, can you just not tell anyone?_

**The Shits:** _My lips are sealed. You know I’ve got your back, brah._

**Captain Zimms:** _Thanks, Shits._

//

**Lards:** _If I get my certification online, can I officiate your wedding?_

**Bitty:** _Oh my God, Lardo. It’s after midnight. Go to bed._

**Lards:** _Is that a yes?_

**Bitty:** _There’s no wedding!_

**Lards:** _There will be._

**Bitty:** _GO TO SLEEP._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you liked the text format and maybe I'll slip in chapters like this once in a while!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty and Jack have their first Wednesday afternoon practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took almost a month to publish! Real life got super busy and for some reason this chapter was really hard to write, I went through so many drafts. But here it is, and I'm relatively happy with it, so enjoy! :)

Jack found out on Monday that he was a bass, apparently. Ms. Thompson had had them start singing a note in the middle range and made them all sing up as high as they could and then as low as they could. Bitty was a tenor, and Jack only noticed when Bitty couldn't sing the low notes because they were still standing beside each other every day, not because he was paying special attention to Bitty or anything like that.

Once they'd been sorted into their sections, Ms. Thompson had lined them up by height. There were only five boys in choir, and they ended up with three tenors and two basses. The two other tenors were both grade nines whose voices hadn't changed yet, and the other bass was a grade eleven that Bitty seemed to know quite well. If Jack was relieved when Ms. Thompson assigned him his spot slightly to the left of and behind Bitty, that was simply because he didn't know anyone else in the class. It was perfectly reasonable to be pleased that he was near Bitty and there was nothing else to read into that at all.

//

Wednesday after school found Bitty making his way to the choir room with a spring in his step.  He'd seen Jack in choir every day and they were getting along just fine, though Ms. Thompson was keeping them all busy with their full group pieces and they hadn't had much time to talk at all. But that was fine, Jack had confirmed that they would meet in the choir room after school, so that's where Bitty was headed. He was excited, though it was definitely entirely because he loved duets. It had nothing to do with his duet partner, as Lardo had implied on countless occasions. Not that he had any complaints, really. Jack had been an excellent duet partner so far. Not that they'd really done anything duet related yet. But still.

When Bitty arrived at the choir room, it was empty. He pulled out his sheet music and his pencil case and set them on the front desk, and then pulled out his i-pod. He'd narrowed his song selection down to four different duets, and he'd downloaded them so he could show them to Jack. He plugged in the docking station Ms. Thompson had left in the room, connected his i-pod and Beyoncé immediately began playing from the speakers. 

Bitty began humming along as he set up two chairs beside the desk, and soon he was singing along and wiggling his hips. "If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it, if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it," Bitty sang, his hips swaying faster. He grabbed a pencil and started singing into it, his other arm waving above his head. It was silly, sure, but who could resist Beyoncé? 

Just as Bitty and Beyoncé were moving in to the second verse, he heard the sound of a throat clearing behind him. He spun around, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, and immediately flushed bright red when he saw Jack leaning against the door frame, looking extremely amused. 

"Jack!" he squeaked. "Hi! I didn't hear you come in." 

"Obviously not," Jack replied, still smirking as he closed the door behind himself. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, you're not," Bitty said quickly, reaching over to pause the music. "I was just...setting up?" he said, resisting the urge to cover his face in mortification. He could feel that he was red to the tips of his ears, and he half wished that the floor would just open up and swallow him. 

"Of course," Jack said, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. Bitty pulled out his water bottle and drank some in hopes of cooling his face down.

Twenty minutes later, they'd listened to the four songs Bitty had chosen, and Jack had picked his favourite. They'd gone over the Latin pronunciations, and Jack had written all of the lyrics out phonetically on his sheet music. After agreeing to learn their parts separately and put it together the following week, they moved on to Bitty's French.

"I didn't do very well on my presentation," Bitty said, pulling out the rubric that his teacher had written all over. "And Monsieur Bernier wrote all his comments in French, because he hates me and doesn't want me to improve."

Jack chuckled. "Here, let me read it," he said, taking the rubric and quickly scanning over it. "Okay, looks like you had some pronunciation issues, some incorrect verb tenses, mixing up the masculine and feminine pronouns. We can work on all of this before your next presentation. What do you have coming up next?"

"We have a test next week on Le petit prince, have you read it?" Bitty asked, hoping that he hadn't completely butchered the simple title.

"We read it in grade two," Jack said with an amused grin.

"Show-off," Bitty grumbled, though he couldn't help but smile slightly when Jack laughed.

"Just do your best with it," Jack said. "Maybe try to read the first half by next Wednesday and then we can go over it and make sure you got the important themes? And while you're reading you can text me if you get so confused that even a dictionary can't help."

"I just use google translate," Bitty admitted, then giggled slightly at the appalled look that Jack gave him.

"Google translate is terrible, no wonder you're so confused," Jack said. "And bring your Bescherelle next week, we'll go over some verb stuff too."

"Bescherelle?" Bitty repeated blankly.

Jack stared at him for a long moment and let out a sigh, shaking his head, though his expression was somehow fond. "I think I have an extra one at home, I'll bring it for you."

Bitty beamed, though he still had no idea what a Bescherelle was and why Jack was insisting on bringing him one.

Ten minutes later, Jack was standing up to leave. They'd sorted out everything they could for the moment, and there was no reason for them to stay any longer, though Bitty found himself not wanting them to part ways.

"Oh, wait!" he said, once Jack had his backpack slung over one shoulder. "Here, I made these in home ec last period." Bitty dug quickly through his backpack and pulled out a brown paper bag. "They're butter tarts. Take one."

"Oh, no, I shouldn't," Jack replied, shaking his head.

"Yes, you should! My mama doesn't like them, and we made a bunch," Bitty said. Those were both lies; Mama loved butter tarts and they'd only made three each in class, but Bitty really wanted Jack to have one, and he didn't want to think too hard about why that was.

Jack considered the butter tarts for a long moment before looking up at Bitty with a small smile. "Well, if your baking is as good as your dancing, then I guess I'd be missing out if I said no," he said cheekily.

Bitty let out a surprised giggle before narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion. "Jack Zimmermann, are you making fun of me?" he asked, unable to prevent the blush that was creeping back up into his cheeks.

Jack didn't answer. He simply smirked and winked, actually winked, then reached out and took a butter tart, and he was gone before Bitty could even comprehend what had just happened.

//

As soon as Jack had turned the corner and left the music hall, he was immediately berating himself. What in the actual fuck was that? What had come over him? Winking? Since when did he wink at people? And complimenting Bitty's dancing? Honestly, what had gotten into him? Jack did not say things like that, ever. 

As Jack was considering the merits of moving back to Quebec (because really, could he ever show his face in choir again?), he didn't even notice Shitty barrelling down the empty hallway toward him until the butter tart had been snatched out of his hand. 

"Brah, is that a motherfucking butter tart? It looks delicious," Shitty said, helping himself to a bite before Jack could stop him. "God, this is fucking transcendent. Shit, dude."

"That is mine," Jack said, firmly, taking it back from Shitty with a glare. 

Shitty shrugged, not seeming perturbed in the slightest. "I thought you didn't eat junk food," he commented. 

"Bitty gave it to me," Jack replied, taking a small bite himself. It really was good, Shitty wasn't exaggerating. "He made it in home ec."

"Oh, and that's why you're actually eating it," Shitty said, a knowing grin on his face. "Because Itty Bitty made it for you."

"He didn't make it for me, he made it for class," Jack protested. "And what are you even doing here? I thought you didn't believe in staying at school any longer than required."

"I went to the weight room, I thought you'd be proud of me," Shitty said, pouting exaggeratedly. 

"I am incredibly proud," Jack deadpanned, finishing off the butter tart. 

"And how was the meeting with Bitty?" Shitty asked, raising an eyebrow. "Was he trying to seduce you with baked goods the whole time?"  
  
"No, he wasn't," Jack said firmly. "He was just being nice. We picked a song, planned out some stuff for his French class. I caught him dancing, and I winked at him on my way out. Gotta go, that's my dad. Bye, Shits."

"You winked? Wait, Jack, you can't just leave a bro hanging like that!" Shitty spluttered as Jack started heading towards his Dad's car. 

"I'll text you later," Jack called, chucking a bit at Shitty's dramatic sigh as he closed the car door. 

//

 **Bitty:**   _I know I promised you that we could split a butter tart at lunch tomorrow but I don't have an extra one anymore._  

**Lards:** _What happened to my butter tart???_

**Bitty:** _It was never your butter tart. But I gave it to Jack_. 

 **Lards:**   _Awww, that's so romantic! You wooed him with butter tarts!_

 **Bitty:**   _I didn't woo him!_  
  
**Bitty:**   _But he did wink at me. That was a bit weird._  

**Lards:** _He winked at you???_

**Bitty:**   _Yeah, after complimenting my dancing._

 **Lards:**   _You were dancing? What sort of duet practice/French tutoring session was this??_

**Bitty:** _It's a long story. I'll tell you tomorrow._

**Lards:** _You'd better._

//

**Captain Zimms:** _When I got there, he was dancing to that song about single ladies? By Shakira or whoever?_

**The Shits:** _You actually texted me! And you want to talk about Itty Bitty! This is a first._

**The Shits:** _And Single Ladies is by Beyoncé. I have no idea how you've managed to live all these years without knowing that._

**Captain Zimms:** _Do you want to hear about this or not?_

**The Shits:** _I really do. Go on._

**Captain Zimms:** _Stop chirping me and I will. Anyways, he was embarrassed that I caught him dancing. And then at the end, when he offered me a butter tart, I said something about how if his baking was as good as his dancing then I didn't want to miss out. And I winked and left._

**The Shits:** _Bro, that sounds incredibly smooth._

**Captain Zimms:** _It was just a friendly thing. Like, friends compliment each other and wink, right?_

**The Shits:** _I mean. I definitely do. I don't know that most bros do. But whatever you say, man._

//

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Hey. I just wanted to say thanks for the butter tart, I'm pretty sure it was the best I've ever tasted._

**Eric Bittle:** _Only pretty sure??? I'm offended. See if I share my baked goods with you ever again._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _It was the single greatest thing I have ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Wait, that sounded weird. Ignore that. I just mean it was good. Really good. So, yeah. Thanks._

**Eric Bittle:** _Well, you're welcome! I'm glad you liked it :)_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _You should read a few pages of Le petit prince before bed._

**Eric Bittle:** _Wishful thinking, Monsieur Zimmermann. That would put me right to sleep._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Well then, I guess this is good night. Bonne nuit, Bitty._

**Eric Bittle:** _Good night, Jack._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically I'm projecting super hard in this entire fic. I was super passionate about my Bescherelle in high school because I definitely wouldn't have survived French immersion without it, and Le petit prince is one of my favourite books of all time. 
> 
> The French is minimal in this chapter but here are the translations if anyone needs them:
> 
> Le petit prince - The Little Prince  
> Bonne nuit - Good night  
> Bescherelle - The bescherelle is like a dictionary but it conjugated French verbs in every tense


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty starts reading Le petit prince with assistance from Jack. Bitty and Lardo meet Shitty, Ransom, and Holster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very minimal angst stemming from the fact that Jack is keeping choir a secret from his bros.
> 
> This is probably going to be be the angstiest this fic is going to get because all I want is light-hearted fluff.
> 
> Also way too much in depth discussion of Le petit prince but I'm not even sorry.

**Eric Bittle:** _Why is there an elephant in the hat?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _What?_

**Eric Bittle:** _On the first page of Le petit prince, there's a picture of an elephant in a hat._  

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I definitely needed that context._

**Eric Bittle:** _This book doesn't make any sense and I'm only on the first page!_  

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Are you actually reading the words or just looking at the pictures? Because the words explain the pictures, Bittle._

**Eric Bittle:** _Since when am I "Bittle"?_

**Eric Bittle:** _And the words are too confusing, I thought the pictures would explain enough without making my brain hurt. But now there's an elephant in a hat on the first page and I! Don't! Understand!_

**Eric Bittle:** _I'll just drop French. I don't really need it. I won't be able to graduate without the language requirement, but who really needs a high school diploma?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Bittle, slow down a bit. You're not dropping French. Give me a second to dig out my copy of Le petit prince._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Okay, got it. So the elephant is not in a hat. It's a snake. Do you see the word "serpent"?_

**Eric Bittle:** _Oh. Yep. Serpent. Okay. So the elephant is in a snake. That seems pretty much impossible but okay. What is this book about again? Which one's the prince, the elephant or the snake?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Neither one is the prince. It's a drawing made by the narrator, who is about to meet the prince._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _The pictures are not actually that helpful in this book. Try reading the words. Use your dictionary for the ones you don't know._

**Eric Bittle:** _Ugh, fine._

**Eric Bittle:** _What does "lorsque" mean?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Bittle. That's the first word in the entire book. And I'm not a dictionary._

**Eric Bittle:** _If you don't tell me I'm going to use Google translate._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Fine, fine. It means "when."_

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay. So. It says "when I was six years old I saw, one time, a magnificent image of..." What does "vierge" mean?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Virgin._

**Eric Bittle:** _Just because I don't speak French doesn't mean I can't seduce someone if I want to!_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _What? I wasn't calling you a virgin, I was translating._

**Eric Bittle:** _I know, I know. I'm just pulling your leg, Mister Zimmermann._

**Eric Bittle:** _"When I was six years old I saw, one time, a magnificent image in a book of forest virgins."_

**Eric Bittle:** _Forest virgins??? I thought this was a book for kids!_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _It is. The forest is called Forêt Vierge. There are no virgins in the forest, it's just the name._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Well, I mean, I guess there could be virgins in the forest. But that's not the point at all. Keep reading._

**Eric Bittle:** _Oui, Monsieur._

//

Jack was laying on his bed with his phone on his chest, flipping through his old copy of Le petit prince. He was still chuckling about forest virgins when there was a knock on the door.

"Oui?" he called out, dropping the book onto his chest on top of his phone and turning his gaze to the door as him mom pushed it open.

"Oh, good, you're smiling. Can I come in?" she asked.

Jack nodded and sat up, placing his book and his phone on the bedside table, as his mom made her way across the room to sit beside him.

"I just wanted to check in, make sure things are going okay," she said gently. "With school, and hockey, and choir and everything. You're doing alright?"

"Everything's fine, Maman," Jack promised.

"Choir's not as bad as you thought it would be?" she asked, brushing some lint off of his pant leg.

Jack shrugged. "It's fine, I guess," he replied. "My duet partner is nice. His name is Eric."

"That's good," his mom said with a smile. "I'm glad to hear it."  She stood and pressed a kiss to Jack's hairline, and as she pulled away she reached out and picked the book up off his bedside table.

"Le petit prince," she said fondly. "I remember your dad reading this to you when you were younger. And you dressed up as the prince for Halloween one year, do you remember that? Are you taking a little trip down memory lane?"

Jack nodded. "I remember," he replied. "And not exactly. I'm actually...tutoring Eric? He has to take a French class and they're reading it."

"Oh, honey, that's nice!" his mom said with a warm smile. "You're such a sweet boy. He must really appreciate that."

Jack shrugged again. "I kind of owe him, he's helping me a lot with choir stuff," he admitted.

"I'm glad you two are getting along," she said, still smiling as she handed him back the book and made her way to the door. "Don't forget you've got an appointment Saturday morning, okay?"

"I won't forget," Jack promised.

"Alright. Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Maman."

The door quietly clicked shut and Jack reached for his phone, checking his messages. There wasn't anything new from Bitty, and he wasn't sure what to say in response to Bitty's last text, and more than ten minutes had passed since then anyway, so he decided to simply set his alarm for the next morning and get ready for bed.

//

At lunch on Friday, the string quartet had an impromptu rehearsal in the choir room, which really put a damper on Bitty and Lardo's usual routine of avoiding the cafeteria. They reluctantly joined the crowds, Bitty grumbling all the while about how he needed the quiet to read Le petit prince. They'd barely taken three steps inside, quickly scanning the room to find an empty table, when Lardo's name was called. They both spun around to see two large boys waving them down with wide grins on their faces. There was another boy with them, and was that...yep, that was Jack. Lardo grinned and waved back, taking off towards them, and Bitty trailed along behind her, trying to keep up. 

"Lardo! Dude! It's been way too long!" one of the boys exclaimed, as the two of them fist bumped.

"Hey, Rans," she said with a wide smile. "C'mere Holtzy, don't want you thinking I've forgotten about you." She held her fist out to him as well. 

Bitty stood by awkwardly as the three of them reunited, and eventually he shimmied past them and plopped himself down in the seat across from Jack. "Hey," he said with a small smile. 

"Jack, who's this?" the boy beside Jack asked. He was more of a man, really, Bitty amended in his head. He couldn't think of many high schoolers who could grow a moustache like that. 

Jack looked resigned somehow, which Bitty didn't fully understand. "This is Eric," he replied. "Bitty, this is Shitty."

"Shitty?" Bitty asked, eyebrows raised. 

"So you're Bitty," Shitty said knowingly. Jack rolled his eyes and elbowed Shitty in the ribs. Bitty tried not to look too confused by the whole thing.

By that point, Lardo and the other two had taken their seats at the table as well. 

"Shits, Jack, this is Lardo," the tall blond boy said. "Remember the girl from our art class in grade 10 whose art was totally the most 'swawesome?" 

"Stop it, you flatterer," Lardo replied with a laugh, shoving his shoulder. "Bitty, this is Ransom and Holster. Rans, Holtz, this is Bitty. And did he just call you 'Shits'?" she asked, turning to Shitty.

Shitty grinned and nodded. "Shits, short for Shitty," he said proudly. 

Lardo laughed again. "Well, that's a nickname if I ever heard one," she commented, amused. 

"Wait, Jack, did I heard you introducing Bitty to Shits before? Do you two know each other?" Ransom asked curiously.

"Yep, we have ch- " Bitty started to reply but was then cut off by Jack. 

"Class together! We had a class together a long time ago, what was it again?" Jack interjected, turning to Bitty but not quite meeting his eye.

Bitty blinked at Jack in surprised confusion for a moment before carefully forcing his expression to go blank.

"Geography, in grade nine, I think," he said hesitantly.

Jack gave him a grateful look and a nod before turning back to his friends. 

"Oh, cool," Ransom said, before changing the subject and asking Lardo about her most recent art projects.

Bitty was quiet for a moment. Jack obviously didn't want his friends to know about choir, for some reason or another. That was disappointing, though maybe Bitty shouldn’t have been surprised, given Jack’s position as the captain of the hockey team. Choir wasn’t exactly the coolest activity in school, and it really didn’t fit with Jack’s image. Still, he thought that he and Jack were friends, and maybe they were, but he couldn't help feeling as though Jack was ashamed of him or something.  But, he sternly reminded himself, he didn't know all that much about Jack, and maybe he had a good reason for not telling his friends about choir. So as much as it might bother Bitty, he really couldn't be angry with Jack about it. 

Lardo nudged his leg under the table with her foot, which he took to mean that he'd been lost in his own thoughts for too long, so he quickly threw himself back into conversation with the rest of them. When the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, he pretended not to care when Jack took the long way to the choir room so that they didn't walk off together.

Bitty didn't ignore Jack in choir, not exactly. But he did spend more time than usual talking to Jason and Tyler, and he hurried off much faster than usual to home ec. He knew it wasn't fair, and he knew it wasn't logical to feel a bit hurt by it all, but he promised himself that all he needed was the weekend to get over it and then he'd be back to normal.

//

**Jack Zimmermann:** _How's Le petit prince going?_

**Eric Bittle:** _I haven't read any more, I'm having a busy weekend._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Oh yeah? What's keeping you so busy?_  

**Eric Bittle:** _I'm just busy. And I got a dictionary anyway, so if I have time to read, I won't have to bother you._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _You weren't bothering me._

**Eric Bittle:** _Still. I have to go. See you Monday._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Okay. See you Monday._

//

**Captain Zimms:** _I think I messed up._

**The Shits:** _Are we talking about with Bitty at lunch on Friday? Because I mean, yeah. You definitely did._

**Captain Zimms:** _Fuck, Shits._

**The Shits:** _I know you want to keep the whole choir thing a secret, which I still think is unnecessary but whatevs, that's your call, but you made him lie too. That wasn't cool, man. I saw the light leave his giant beautiful brown eyes._

**Captain Zimms:** _I know._

**The Shits:** _And you were going on about how you two were friends now after that conversation you had about that book or whatever, but then you wouldn't even tell your friends that you're friends with him? He was just someone you had a class with a long time ago? Of course his feelings are hurt. Mine would be. In fact, I am hurt, on his behalf._

**Captain Zimms:** _I know, Shitty._

**The Shits:** _And after he made such an effort to help you adjust to choir. Man, his friend was glaring daggers at you. Lardo. She seems cool. And he's cute, by the way. But yeah, you were definitely a dick._

**Captain Zimms:** _Okay, that's enough. I already feel awful, thank you._

**The Shits:** _Talk to him. Apologize._

**Captain Zimms:** _I tried texting him. He shut the conversation down pretty much immediately._

**The Shits:** _Apologies should be in person anyways. Talk to him on Wednesday at your little rendez-vous._

**Captain Zimms:** _If he even still wants to meet._

**The Shits:** _He will. He takes choir way too seriously to jeopardize the duet assignment just because of your idiocy._

**Captain Zimms:** _How do you know that?_

**The Shits:** _Lardo told me._

**Captain Zimms:** _Lardo, huh? Are you two texting?_

**The Shits:** _You don't get any deets until you fix things with Mr. Bittle._

//

**Lardo:** _Dude, are you mad a Jack?_

**Bitty:** _No. Not mad. I dunno, just hurt, a bit, I guess. But I'll get over it, it's none of my business if he wants to keep choir a secret. I'm sure he's got a good reason._

**Lardo:** _Well, I can be mad on your behalf if you want._

**Bitty:** _Thanks Lards, but that's okay. Besides, you know I can’t really say anything without being a hypocrite._

**Lardo:** _Shitty knows about choir, for what it's worth. So it's not a complete secret._

**Bitty:** _And how do you know that, hmm???_

**Lardo:** _Shitty told me. We've been texting._

**Bitty:** _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

**Lardo:** _Shut up._

//

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Are we still meeting on Wednesday?_

**Eric Bittle:** _Of course, unless that doesn't work for you?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _No, no, it's good. I was just making sure._

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay. Good._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Listen. I'm sorry about what happened on Friday. In the cafeteria._

**Eric Bittle:** _It's okay._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _No, it wasn't okay. It wasn't fair to you._

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay, well. Thank you for saying that._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Can I explain?_

**Eric Bittle:** _You don't have to do that. It's your business._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I want to._

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay. We can talk on Wednesday._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Okay. Thank you._

**Eric Bittle:** _No need to thank me. And in case you were worried or whatever, I'm not mad at you. I get it._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _That's a relief. Thanks, Bittle._

**Eric Bittle:** _You're welcome, Jack._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's fairly obvious that in next chapter these two are going to talk about things and I, for one, can't wait. 
> 
> If you want to read Le petit prince (which I highly recommend), or see the pictures Bitty is talking about, links are below to pdf versions!
> 
> English: http://www.hilpro.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/Pequeno-Pri%CC%81ncipe-Ingle%CC%82s.pdf  
> French: http://www.cmls.polytechnique.fr/perso/tringali/documents/st_exupery_le_petit_prince.pdf
> 
> Thank you for all your comments so far!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty and Jack talk about Jack keeping choir a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know it's been forever since I updated this story but here's a short chapter that hopefully means there's more to come. I do have the next chapter planned out so that's a good sign!

Bitty was late for his Wednesday meeting with Jack. Jack, for his part, was right on time, and spent seven and a half minutes convinced that Bitty hated him and was never going to show up.

When Bitty did arrive, flushed pink and out of breath, Jack was pacing around the choir room. “Sorry, sorry!” he said, rushing in. “There was an incident in home ec with the microwave. Someone put tin foil in it! Can you imagine? Tin foil in the microwave? Some people are just so hopeless in the kitchen! But I guess that’s why people take home ec, to learn things like not to put tin foil in the microwave. Anyways, there was only a small fire and Mister Hoffman was real quick with the fire extinguisher, but it just made such a mess! Foam everywhere, I tell you.” He finally stopped to take a breath and flushed slightly pinker. “Listen to me, rambling on. All that to say sorry I’m late.”

Jack really couldn’t help but smile a bit, though he was trying not to let his relief show too plainly on his face. The way Bitty told stories really was something. “That’s okay,” he said, returning back to his seat. “I’m glad you’re okay, that sounds very dramatic. I have to admit, I did think that maybe you decided you were mad at me after all and weren’t going to show up.”

Bitty looked stricken. “I wouldn’t do that!” he said, sitting down across from Jack. “I would never, Jack. Look. I wasn’t fair. I was hurt that you wanted to keep choir a secret, and keep it a secret that we’re friends. Because we are friends, right?”

“Of course we’re friends,” Jack said immediately. “Eric. Of course. And I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologise. It’s your decision if you don’t want your friends to know about choir. Really. I shouldn’t have been grumpy about it. I can pretend whatever you want me to pretend,” Bitty said earnestly.

“Bitty…” Jack said slowly. “I don’t think I feel right about that.”

“Jack, really,” Bitty said firmly. “I get it, okay? I have things I keep to myself too. It would be real hypocritical of me to get mad at you for this. I understand.”

Jack was quiet for a moment. Bitty looked genuine, and he was smiling softly, so Jack nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed. “If you’re sure. I really appreciate it. And I want to clarify that I never wanted to hide you. It’s just choir. I know the team would be fine with it, but…I don’t know. They’ll just chirp me about it and I don’t want to deal with that yet.”

Bitty nodded. “Okay,” he said simply. They were quiet for a moment before Bitty clapped his hands together once and reached for his sheet music. “Well, now that we’ve sorted that out, let’s get to practising! And I need your help with French after, we have a quiz next week on irregular verbs and I’m completely hopeless.”

Jack smiled. “Yeah, alright,” he said, pulling his sheet music out as well. “Let’s practice.”

//

**The Shits:** _So, how was your meeting with Itty Bitty? Did you apologize?_

**Captain Zimms:** _Yeah. It was good. He was really nice about it._

**The Shits:** _Awwww, good. I hated that the lovebirds were fighting. It’s like when my parents fight._

**Captain Zimms:** _That makes no sense and is one of the weirder things you’ve ever said to me._

**The Shits:** _Still. Glad you kissed and made up._

**Captain Zimms:** _That is not what happened. There was no kissing._

**The Shits:** _But you wished there had been, don’t you._

**Captain Zimms:** _Shut up._

**The Shits:** _You are so transparent. You really like him._

**Captain Zimms:** _Leave it, Shitty._

**The Shits:** _Okay, okay. I guess you don’t care that Lardo thinks he likes you then._

**Captain Zimms:** _Did she say that?_

**The Shits:** _Yeah, bro._

**Captain Zimms:** _Did she say anything else?_

**The Shits:** _She got really protective and said she would beat up anyone who hurt him, including you. It was really hot, not gonna lie._

**Captain Zimms:** _I’m not going to hurt him._

**The Shits:** _Good._

**Captain Zimms:** _So. You and Lardo?_

**The Shits:** _I mean nothing’s happened yet but we’ve been texting a lot. Mostly about you and Bitty, but still. She’s pretty awesome, isn’t she?_

**Captain Zimms:** _Yeah, she seems great._

**The Shits:** _She could definitely kick my ass, but apparently that’s something I’m into.  I wonder if that’s a pattern I can trace through all of my past relationships?_

**Captain Zimms:** _Well, good luck figuring that out. No need to let me know._

**The Shits:** _You wound me._

**Captain Zimms:** _You know I’m kidding. And I think you and Lardo would be really good together, from what I know so far about her._

**The Shits:** _Almost as good as you and Bitty._

**Captain Zimms:** _Sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with you._

**The Shits:** _Rude. I think it’s my striking good looks._

**Captain Zimms:** _Yeah, that must be it._

//

**Lardo:** _Glad to hear that you and Jack made up._

**Bitty:** _How did you hear that?_

**Lardo:** _Shitty told me. Said you kissed and made up._

**Bitty:** _We didn’t! Well, we talked. There wasn’t any kissing._

**Lardo:** _Shame._

**Bitty:** _We both apologised and it’s all fine now. We practised our song and he helped me study my irregular verbs._

**Lardo:** _Romance isn’t dead._

**Bitty:** _Wait, Shitty told you? Exactly how much are you two talking???_

**Lardo:** _We’re talking enough._

**Bitty:** _Enough? What does that mean?_

**Lardo:** _;) ;) ;)_

**Bitty:** _???????????????_

**Lardo:** _Chill dude, I was joking. We’re just talking, mostly about you and Jack anyways._

**Bitty:** _There’s nothing to talk about!_

**Lardo:** _Well, Shitty and I have been talking about it for days, so I would beg to differ._

**Bitty:** _Oh my goodness. Y’all are ridiculous. Jack and I are duet partners and friends. That’s it._

**Lardo:** _Mhm. Okay. Friends. Sure._

**Bitty:** _No more baked goods for you._

**Lardo:** _:( :( :(_

//

The following Wednesday was their last practice before the first round of duet performances that Friday. They sang their song over and over again until Bitty was satisfied with the harmonies and Jack’s pronunciation, and then Bitty answered questions about Le petit prince until Jack was satisfied with his knowledge of the plot and themes. Bitty ended up giving Jack all of the cookies he’d made in home ec, insisting that Jack was the only person he knew who actually liked raisins in oatmeal cookies, and they both went home with smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's sticking with this story! I won't promise when the next update will be but I promise that it will happen eventually. Your kudos and comments always encourage me, so thank you to everyone who leaves those!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for their first duet performance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in this chapter there is a fairly detailed description of a panic attack, based purely on my own experiences. If this is not something you want to read, please see the end notes for a very brief summary!
> 
> I promise most of the chapters won't be this angsty. Overall, this fic is going to be mostly fun with only a little bit of occasional angst.

Friday rolled around and Bitty was excited. He loved performing, really loved it. He got nervous, sure, but much less so now that he’d been singing for a few years, and the nerves felt a lot more like adrenaline rather than fear. He and Jack had decided to keep the outfits classy, just dark jeans and a button up, and Bitty had brought a jacket and bow tie to go along with his. Something about singing in Latin just made him feel like he should be wearing a bow tie.

This first performance day would take place in the choir room and just during their normal choir period. Ms. Thompson knew they were nervous for their first performance of the year so she didn’t want a large crowd, they would work up to that. She’d set up about fifty chairs squished in to one side of the room and had the piano set up in front, where Lardo was sitting with stacks of sheet music. Most of the seats were filled with the performers anyway, though there were a few friends that had been invited. Bitty spotted Shitty sitting near the back and waved with a smile before turning to the front.

“Now, we’ll draw numbers to see which order you’ll be performing in,” Ms. Thompson announced, after welcoming their guests. “And remember, we’re all going to be supportive of one another. Don’t be scared, we’re just here to have fun.”

She passed by and Bitty drew for himself and Jack.

“Fifth!” he exclaimed, showing the paper to Jack. “That’s good, close to the middle!”

Jack didn’t respond and his smile seemed a bit strained but Bitty didn’t have much time to think about that because the first pair was stepping up to start a fast-paced song in German and Bitty sat back to enjoy, clapping loudly when they were finished.

When group number three finished performing in Korean, Bitty noticed that Jack’s breathing was off, a bit. Faster than usual, and short breaths, like he couldn’t take in more than a little bit of air at a time. He turned to him, his forehead creased in concern. “Jack?” he said quietly, leaning in slightly. “Are you okay?”

Jack simply looked at him wide-eyed for a moment before standing and practically running out of the room.

Bitty blinked at the empty chair for a moment. He stood, catching Ms. Thompson’s eye with a confused look before running out after Jack.

//

Jack made it about ten steps down the hall away from the choir room before his legs gave out on him. He managed to lean himself against the wall, sliding down it and landing heavily. He immediately drew his legs up to his chest and let his head hang between them, his fingers tangled in his hair, tugging none too gently.

“Jack?” 

He could hear Bitty’s voice but he sounded like he was standing at the end of a long tunnel and Jack couldn’t look up to face him, not while he could hardly breathe and could feel his heart beating out of his chest, too fast. His heart was beating too fast and he was going to die. He felt like he needed to get out of his skin but that was impossible and he tugged harder at his hair. And Bitty was watching all this happening, God, he was going to think there was something seriously wrong with him. He’d never be able to face him again.

“Jack!”

Bitty definitely sounded panicked now. Of course he was. They were supposed to perform in a few minutes. The thought only made Jack curl up tighter on himself. He was letting Bitty down and he couldn’t bear it. But if he’d performed he would have let Bitty down anyway. He wasn’t good enough, not to sing in front of people.

He vaguely heard another voice join Bitty’s and it was more familiar, but he couldn’t look up to check.

“Jack.”

Not Bitty, this time.

“Jack, bro. You gotta breathe. Come on. In for five, hold for five, out for eight. You can do it. With me now.”

It didn’t work right away, not by any means, but after a while, Jack could feel his heart rate slowing ever so slightly. It felt less like death was looming over his head. He felt gentle hands pry his fingers out of his hair and a presence settled beside him. A hand settled against his upper back, between his shoulders.

“This okay?” Shitty asked, gently rubbing Jack’s back.

Jack managed a jerky nod and continued breathing as Shitty counted beside him. Eventually, he lifted his head, his entire body feeling exhausted but tightly wound.

“Hey,” Shitty said, voice softer than usual. “Drink some of this.” He opened a Gatorade and held it out to Jack, who obediently took several sips in quick succession.

“Thanks,” Jack replied, his voice raspy as he handed it back.

Shitty waved him off. “Feeling a bit better?” he asked.

Jack shrugged. “I guess so,” he replied, not sounding very sure of his answer.

There was a pause before Jack spoke again.

“I can’t sing in front of people,” he stated.

Shitty shrugged. “I mean, I bet you can, bro. But I can see how that’s fucking terrifying,” he said thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall beside Jack and letting silence fall again.

“Is Bitty mad?” Jack asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shitty raised an eyebrow. “Mad? Nah. Worried about you, more like.”

“I don’t want to let him down,” Jack said quietly, holding his head in his hands.

“I think he would understand,” Shitty mused. “He seems like he would. But you have to do what works for you, dude.”

At that moment, Bitty popped back out of the choir room and made his way tentatively down the hall towards them.

“Um,” he said, coming to a stop in front of them. “They’ve just skipped us, but Ms. Thompson says we can go last, if you’re…um…up for it?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack said, more confidently than he felt. It was a split second decision, but he knew he would never forgive himself if he didn’t sing with Bitty. “But Shits, I need you to sit in the front.”

Shitty nodded. “You got it, dude. You can just sing to me and I’ll pretend to understand what the Latin means.”

“It’ll be okay,” Bitty said, taking a hesitant step closer to Jack. “Really, Jack, you know your part. I’m not just saying that. You’re good and you know it perfectly. I start, and you come in, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

Jack nodded and pushed himself up to stand on shaky legs. “I’m just going to splash some water on my face. Be right back,” he mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. It was damp, and he didn’t even remember crying.

//

As soon as Jack was out of earshot, Bitty turned to Shitty. “Is he okay?” he demanded. “What was that? It seemed like a panic attack, but I’m not an expert. I have had them before. It’s been awhile though, not as many since we moved, since I got away from…well. Are you sure he should be singing? I’m sure Ms. Thompson would understand if we needed to perform another day.”

“Not really my place to answer any of those questions, Bits, sorry,” Shitty replied, clapping Bitty on the shoulder. “But he’s set his mind to it now. He’ll be back and he’ll follow through. You can head in, I’ll wait for him.”

Bitty did head in, his mind still racing. God, he’d been so scared. This wasn’t about him, he knew that, but he had still been so darn scared. Jack had looked like…Bitty didn’t even know how to describe it and he hadn’t known what to do, had been standing there floundering and panicking until Shitty had come running out after them. And now they were going to perform anyway. What if it happened again? Bitty had half a mind to ask Ms. Thompson if they could send her a video recording of their duet instead, anything to avoid Jack having to go through that again.

But a few minutes later, Jack and Shitty were slipping into the room and settling into the chairs he’d saved beside himself in the front row. Jack looked…not completely himself, but much better than he had a few minutes earlier. A little worse for wear, but that was certainly to be expected, given the circumstances. Bitty offered him a soft smile, not knowing what else to do, and settled in to wait for their turn.

//

The performance itself was almost anti-climactic. When their turn came, Jack could feel his breathing speeding up again, but he closed his eyes, took a few measured breaths, and then joined Bitty at the front of the room. Bitty smiled at him as Lardo started to play, and Jack watched him as he started to sing, watched him until it was his turn to sing. He turned, faced the audience, found Shitty’s overly proud face, and joined in.

As Bitty had said, it was over before he knew it. They’d practiced the song so many times that once he started, it came naturally, his voice weaving together with Bitty’s, the Latin syllables flowing out, despite the fact that he still had no clue what he was singing about. Then it was done, and everyone was clapping politely, and Shitty was giving them a standing ovation, of course he was, and Bitty was beaming at him and all of it together made Jack feel like he just might cry. He managed not to, but it was a close thing. Then the bell was ringing was everyone was filing out and Jack had to get to history class and he barely managed a goodbye to Bitty before he and Shitty were hurrying off.

//

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Hey. I’m sorry about today._

**Eric Bittle:** _Jack. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, okay? You sang amazingly._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Still. I know that whole…thing. It’s a lot. I can be a lot._

**Eric Bittle:** _Not your fault. I understand, okay? I mean, not exactly, of course. But I get it, a bit. In a different way._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _You do?_

**Eric Bittle:** _Yep. Now, are you feeling better? Need me to send over an emergency pie?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Ha. That won’t be necessary. But thank you, that’s really nice. And thanks for understanding._

**Eric Bittle:** _No need to thank me for that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Basically it's performance day and right before their turn, Jack runs out of the room because he's having a panic attack. Bitty runs after him and doesn't know what to do, but Shitty, who was in the audience, had followed them out and helps Jack breathe and calm down. Eventually Jack agrees to perform and it goes well. The only other important information is that Bitty alludes to also having had panic attacks in the past. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who was so encouraging after the last update! Obviously it was a enough to motivate me to keep going on this story, which is awesome! Please keep letting me know what you think as we go along!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty and Jack find out what they'll be singing next and they work on Bitty's French project.

Jack was away on a roadie when the time came to pick the next category for their duet assignment. He was on the bus in the aisle seat near the front, Shitty next to him, when his phone buzzed.

 **Eric Bittle:** _The theme is pop! We’re pulling artists from the hat soon. I’ll let you know who we get!_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _Sounds good :)_

He’d added the smiley face in an attempt to make his text look friendlier. Bitty’s texts always seemed so friendly. Jack figured it might be his liberal use of exclamation marks.

“Bro, how come you never send me smiley faces? Do I not make you smile when we text?” Shitty asked, jolting Jack out of his ponderings about whether or not he needed to say anything else to Bitty.

“Stop reading over my shoulder,” Jack scolded without venom, gently pushing Shitty away from him.

Shitty held up his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t reading, I respect your privacy.” He ignored Jack’s snort. “I just happened to glance over and see the smiley. Can I guess who you’re texting?” he asked with a wink.

“You may not,” Jack said firmly, tucking his phone into his pocket.

“What’s Itty Bitty up to? Does he miss you? Do you miss him? You don’t have to answer that, I know you do,” Shitty said knowingly.

“Shut up,” Jack replied, pulling a textbook out of his bag and opening it in his lap. “I’m studying.”

Shitty scoffed but didn’t say anything further. Jack could faintly hear the music that was playing from Shitty’s earphones, and that combined with the sounds of the whole team hyped up on the bus made focusing on his textbook nearly impossible, but he managed to get through a few pages.

About twenty minutes later, Jack’s phone buzzed again and he pointedly avoided Shitty’s knowing look as he pulled it back out to see a text from Bitty.

 **Eric Bittle:** _BEYONCÉ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D_

“Beyoncé’s the one who says you should put a ring on it, right?” Jack asked Shitty, who was suddenly busy looking at his own phone.

“That she is, bro. And I suggest that you act suitably excited about that because according to Lardo, Bits orchestrated some shady black market back alley choir trade deals to get her,” Shitty reported.

“Oh, is that what Lardo says? What’s she up to? Does she miss you? Do you miss her? You don’t have to answer that, I know you do,” Jack said in his best impression of Shitty, who barked out a laugh.

“You got me there, Jack-O, good one,” he said, balling up his sweatshirt against Jack’s shoulder and settling in. “I need a powernap. Wake me in twenty.”

Jack nodded and then sent a string of exclamation marks to Bitty, who responded almost immediately.

 **Eric Bittle:** _Do you have any song ideas?_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _I think I’ll leave this one to you, you’re the Beyoncé expert, after all. I haven’t forgotten your dance moves. I hope you don’t expect that of me._

 **Eric Bittle:** _You shut your mouth, Mister Zimmermann._

 **Eric Bittle:** _But also, thank you!!! Next time you get to pick, okay?_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _We’ll see what the next category is. You know more music than I do._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Well, alright. We’ll see._

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _Did I miss anything else in class?_

 **Eric Bittle:** _Not really. But I did get assigned a French presentation. I’m gonna need lots of help, if you still don’t mind?_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _I don’t mind. We’ll figure out a time to meet just for that when I’m back._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Sounds good, thank you! And good luck at your game tonight! Score a goal!_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _Thanks, I’ll do my best. :)_

“The Zimmermann charm is so strong it’s keeping me awake,” Shitty mumbled sleepily against Jack’s shoulder.

“Shut up, that doesn’t make any sense,” Jack said, purposefully jostling his shoulder before settling, leaning his head against Shitty’s for a nap of his own.

//

Jack did score a goal that night.

//

It didn’t take Bitty long to pick ‘Halo’ for their duet. He could already hear the harmonies, and by the time they had their next Wednesday meeting, he’d already arranged the whole thing. He made Jack listen to the song three times (after expressing his complete and utter horror that Jack couldn’t remember having ever heard it before) before he started going through the harmonies. Jack picked it up quickly, and they made it through half of the song in one afternoon, which Bitty was very pleased with.

“When do you want to work on your French presentation?” Jack asked, as they were packing up afterwards. “I’m free most of the weekend, if you want.”

“Oh!” Bitty said. “I almost forgot all about that. Lord, what would I do without you? I think Saturday works for me, later in the day. I’ll text you.”

“Yeah, text me and let me know,” Jack agreed. “See you tomorrow, Bittle.”

“Don’t forget your black bean brownie!” Bitty called after him, holding the paper bag up.

“Ha, yeah. Don’t want to forget that for sure,” Jack said, accepting the bag, “Thanks, Eric.”

//

 **Jack:** _Maman? Can Eric come over on Saturday? He needs help with a French project._

 **Maman:** _Of course he can. That’s very sweet of you to help him out. He’s welcome for dinner if he wants._

 **Jack:** _Thanks. I’ll let him know._

//

 **Eric Bittle:** _Hey! I’m free after five on Saturday._

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _My maman said you’re welcome for dinner on Saturday if you want to work here._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Well, that is just so sweet! You tell her thank you from me, and I’ll bring dessert._

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _More black bean brownies? :)_

 **Eric Bittle:** _I was thinking a pie, but I’m glad you liked the brownie. Any pie flavour requests?_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _My papa says strawberry rhubarb._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Strawberry rhubarb it is!_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _Just so you know, this is all a ploy because they want to meet you._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Why on earth do they want to meet little old me?_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _I guess they’ve met most of my friends except you._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Well, I’m excited to meet them too!_

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _You and Lardo should eat lunch with us again sometime. If you want to. We usually sit in the same spot._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Yeah! Maybe tomorrow._

 **Jack Zimmermann:** _Okay. See you tomorrow, then._

 **Eric Bittle:** _Good night, Jack._

//

When Bitty arrived at Jack’s house on Saturday evening, he got all flustered and called Jack’s papa ‘Mr. Jack’s Dad’. Jack and his papa laughed for about ten minutes, and Jack was still chuckling as they settled in the living room. “I panicked,” Bitty hissed, his cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

//

“No, you don’t exactly roll the ‘R,’ it’s more like there’s something stuck in your throat that you’re trying to get it out without coughing, you know?” Jack instructed.

Bitty huffed in frustration. “Well, that’s just ridiculous,” he grumbled.

“Don’t let Papa hear you say that,” Jack replied with a grin. “Go back and try it again.”

The pair of them were sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing each other, as they went over Bitty’s upcoming French presentation. The assignment was to explain how to do something, anything that they wanted, so Bitty was explaining how to make a pie. It was a cruel coincidence that the French word for pie (‘tarte,’ Bitty learned on Google translate) had an ‘R’ in it, which Bitty could not, for the life of him, get the hang of. Jack found the whole thing very amusing, as did his papa, who could be heard chuckling from the kitchen every so often.

“That was a bit better,” Jack said after Bitty’s next run-through. “But remember that ‘TH’ is different in French. Just pronounce it like a normal ‘T.’ And there are a couple of spots where we need to fix the sentence structure. You’re doing great though, Bittle, really.” He took Bitty’s cue cards and started writing in the margins as Bitty looked on despairingly.

Jack had just handed Bitty back his cue cards when his Papa called them all for dinner.

“Oh, thank the Lord,” Bitty said dramatically as he stood and stretched.

“Hey!” Jack said indignantly, standing as well.

“I just need a break, honey,” Bitty promised, patting Jack’s chest twice in reassurance before padding out to the kitchen.

Jack took a moment to pretend that Bitty calling him ‘honey’ hadn’t made his stomach feel weird before following.

He found Bitty instructing Papa to put the pie in the oven while they were eating so it would be warm for dessert, and Maman trying to shoo Bitty to the table so she could serve the meal Papa had cooked. The scene made him grin.

“Jack, don’t just stand there, help your Maman please,” Papa said, gesturing towards the cutlery drawer. “We need forks and knives.”

//

The dinner conversation centered mainly on Bitty complimenting Jack’s papa for the food, and Jack’s parents asking Bitty about school. Jack thought maybe they’d make it through the whole meal without his parents embarrassing him, but unfortunately for him, his luck only lasted until the middle of dessert, once his parents had finished raving about how good Bitty’s pie was.

“So, Eric, how is Jack’s singing, really?” Papa asked, grinning. “He won’t sing anything for us.”

“Papa,” Jack groaned, resisting the urge to hold his head in his hands.

“Oh, he’s real good,” Bitty replied earnestly. “Really, he has to help me way more with the French than I do with the singing. It’s not a fair trade at all.”

“Well, I think it’s very sweet that you two are helping each other out,” Maman said, beaming at Bitty. “And we’re just glad to see Jack making friends outside of the team.”

“Maman,” Jack groaned, closing his eyes from a long moment.

“What? I’m just saying,” Maman continued. “And Eric, if you ever want more French practice, you’re always welcome over here. I’m sure my boys would be happy to have French conversations with you. That’s the easiest way to learn.”

“Anytime,” Papa chimed in. “As long as you bring us a pie.”

“Oh my God, leave him alone,” Jack said, trying not to sound as mortified as he felt. “We have to get back to work.”

“Thank you so much for dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Zimmermann!” Bitty said with a wide smile.

“You can call me Alicia, honey,” Maman replied. “And you’re very welcome. Thank you for the delicious pie!”

“You can call me Mr. Jack’s Dad,” Papa teased. “And you can just leave your dishes, I can tell Jack is itching to have you all to himself again,” he added with a wink.

“Papa!” Jack exclaimed, completely mortified, as both he and Bitty flushed pink.

“Off you go, out of the kitchen,” Maman said, flicking at them both with a dish towel.

“Crisse, I am so sorry about them,” Jack said, once they were out of earshot.

“Don’t be,” Bitty said with a giggle. “They’re sweet! And they obviously love you a lot.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, pausing as though he were about to say something else. Eventually though, he just grabbed Bitty’s cue cards from the table and handed them over. “Let’s try it again, and I’ll ask you questions at the end this time.”

“Okay,” Bitty agreed, clearing his throat before beginning his presentation for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.

//

When Jack got back after driving Bitty home that evening, his parents were both sitting in the living room.

“Eric seems like a nice boy,” Papa said, as he passed by the doorway.

Jack stopped and poked his head back into the room. “He is nice,” he replied. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if he wasn’t.”

“Cute, too,” Maman added, with a knowing smile.

Jack groaned and rolled his eyes before heading towards the stairs.

“Good night, Maman,” he called over his shoulder. “Bonne nuit, Papa.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” Maman called back at the same as Papa called back his “bonne nuit, mon fils.” Jack could hear their smiles in both of their voices. He knew that no matter how embarrassing they were, he was lucky to have them.

//

 **Lardo:** _Bitty._

 **Lardo:** _Bits._

 **Lardo:** _Are you still at Jack’s?_

**Lardo:** _Boi, it's late. Scandalous._

**Lardo:** _Eric Richard Bittle._

 **Lardo:** _Shitty says Jack isn’t answering him either._

 **Lardo:** _Eric._

 **Lardo:** _Omg just text me when you get home._

 **Bitty:** _Omg Lardo, calm down._

 **Lardo:** _Where have you been, young man?_

 **Bitty:** _Jack just drove me home._

 **Lardo:** _That’s so romantic. How was it?_

 **Bitty:** _It is not romantic, shut up._

 **Bitty:** _It was good. His parents are really nice, they liked the pie, and we got a lot done for my presentation._

 **Lardo:** _Bitty. Bits. My pal. That’s all so boring. I want the DEETS._

 **Bitty:** _That’s really it! There are no deets!_

 **Lardo:** _Did his parents like you? Did they give you their blessing? Did he open the car door for you? Did his eyes sparkle when he looked at you? Don’t hold back on me, Bittle._

 **Bitty:** _Lardo, omg. It wasn’t a date. We were working._

 **Bitty:** _He did open the car door for me though._

 **Lardo:** _I knew it! What a gentleman._

 **Bitty:** _Good night, Lardo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think so far!
> 
> I know this fic is slow-going BUT I do have a chapter by chapter plan for the rest of it which should help. So as usual, no promises about when the next chapter is coming, but I can promise that it will come eventually!
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos and lovely comments :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Bitty and Jack to talk about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Bitty talks about his experience with being locked in the utility closet. Both characters talk about mental health (PTSD/anxiety). A brief very vague mention of Jack's overdose. Be mindful of that in case it could be upsetting for you.
> 
> Also, I'm back! I know it's been awhile. I finished my degree and got a job, which is all very exciting but also stressful and time-consuming. Hoping to be able to update a bit more often now!

**Eric Bittle:** _Jack! Guess what I got on my French presentation!_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _An A+._

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay, Mister, lower your expectations a little bit, I’m no French genius._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Just tell me._

**Eric Bittle:** _A B+!_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Good job, Bittle! We’ll get you an A on the next one, I’m sure._

**Eric Bittle:** _Thanks, Jack. And thanks for all your help!_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _It’s my pleasure, Eric._

**//**

The morning of their Halo performance, Jack woke up with his stomach twisted with nerves. He forced himself to take deep measured breaths as he ate his scrambled eggs in the dark kitchen, and he assessed his physical symptoms like his therapist always told him to do. It wasn’t as bad as last time. He at least knew what to expect, and the last time hadn’t been horrible once he’d actually managed to sing, so he was fairly certain that he would be able to handle his anxiety this time around.

He still wanted to do anything he could do to help himself feel better though, so he packed his backpack earlier than usual and was putting on his shoes when Maman came down the stairs in her dressing gown.

“You’re heading out early this morning,” she commented with a yawn,

Jack nodded in response. “I’m going to the rink,” he explained. When Maman didn’t respond in any way other than lifting an eyebrow, he continued. “We have our second duet performance today, and I guess I have some nervous energy to skate off.”

Maman smiled. “You’ll do just fine, I know it. Have a good skate, cher, and break a leg this afternoon.”

She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead before padding off to the kitchen, her slippers sliding on the floor. Jack waited until he heard the click on the coffee machine before he left the house and headed to his car.

//

Jack used to be at the rink early on a daily basis, in the months leading up to ‘the incident,’ as he referred to it in his head. It was his therapist following that who had been so insistent that he cut down on hockey and find other healthy outlets, so he’d reluctantly stopped skating in the mornings. Mostly.

He still remembered what the rink was like alone in the mornings though. So quiet and still, so different from when he was there with the rest of the team, with the coaches bustling around and with students stopping in the stands to watch.

He was expecting the silence and tranquility when he arrived, which was why he froze in shock when he exited the locker room and heard music. Seconds later, he noticed a figure whizzing by on the ice, too quickly to be identified. It took him a few seconds more to realize that the song playing was Halo, and then a few seconds after that to realize that it was Bittle speeding around on the ice.

Once he realized who it was, he figured he should call out, say something to let Bittle know that he was there. That would be polite, right? Friends greeted each other, and Jack knew that he personally didn’t like being watched without knowing, and maybe Bittle felt the same way. Just as he’d opened his mouth to call out, Bittle launched himself off the ice, spun in the air, and then managed to land gracefully on one leg and continue to glide.

Jack realized he was gaping a few seconds later and forced himself to close his mouth as he approached the bench. It would be rude to interrupt, he decided. He’d let Bittle finish his routine and then he’d make his presence known. Besides, that would let him see more of Bittle’s skating, which was becoming more and more impressive by the second.

He sat down heavily on the bench, and his skates, which he’d forgotten were in his hand, let out a loud metallic clang as they hit the bench beside him. Bittle spun around with a surprised yelp, and Jack just blinked at him for a long moment, certain that he looked like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Uh. Hey,” he said awkwardly, a hand coming up to push his fringe back.

“Jack! Um! I wasn’t expecting to see you here! I checked the schedule and no one had the rink booked this morning,” Bitty said, skating over to the bench, the expression on his face almost nervous. He grabbed his phone off of the boards and paused the music.

“Yeah, no, I don’t have the rink booked,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I just wasn’t expecting…uh. Usually there’s nobody here, and you…you skate. Like. You really skate. Wow.”

Bitty’s lips quirked up a bit at that. “I do skate,” he said, sounding a bit amused before the nervous look returned to his face. “Maybe don’t tell anyone about that though, if you don’t mind?”

“Why not?” Jack asked, frowning. “And why didn’t you tell me? You’re amazing, Bittle. That jump spin thing you did was just…wow. So good.”

Bitty’s forehead creased in a frown as well. “Thank you,” he said eventually, ignoring Jack’s questions. “Are you coming on the ice, or what?” he asked, then spun away, taking off around the rink again in a blur.

Jack was left blinking dazedly and it took him a second before he moved to put on his skates, lacing them up quickly. He joined Bitty out on the ice and began slow laps, getting passed by Bitty several times as he warmed up and slowly built up speed. Eventually they were skating beside each other, though Jack has a sneaking suspicion that Bitty has slowed down to keep pace with him.

“I competed at the state championships for ice dance last year,” Bitty said suddenly, not looking at Jack. “Almost placed, too. I was just fractions of a point away from the boy who came third. So close.”

“That’s frustrating,” Jack said, choosing his words carefully. He was worried that if he said the wrong thing, Bitty would stop talking altogether. “But still really amazing, you know.”

“It was frustrating,” Bitty said with a sigh. “But you know what was even more frustrating? Having no one other than my parents and my coach to talk about it with. That was frustrating.”

“Why only them?” Jack asked quietly.

“Because they’re the only ones who know about me and figure skating,” Bitty replied simply.

Jack didn’t fight him on his non-answer and instead nodded and continued skating in silence. He was good at silent skating.

It was several minutes later when Bitty spoke again.

“I’m not from here, you know,” he said abruptly. “I’m sure you can tell from my accent, but. Yeah. I grew up in Georgia, we lived there until I was thirteen or so. I started figure skating when I was real young and I fell in love with it. Lots of people weren’t very nice about it though.”

Jack hummed to show he was listening, not wanting to interrupt.

“A lot of the football boys, my daddy’s team, he was their coach, they gave me a hard time about it. Lots of teasing that turned into shoving and threats, and then…they locked me in a utility closet once. Overnight.”

Bitty delivered that part of the story flatly, with no emotion in his voice, but plenty on his face. Jack, who wasn’t usually much of a hugger, had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around Bitty.

“That’s horrible,” Jack said, knowing that the word wasn’t nearly adequate to describe Bitty’s experience.

“It certainly wasn’t great,” Bitty agreed drily.  “Anyways. We moved to get away from all that, I started high school fresh up here. New school, new coach, new friends…I kept skating, started competing, but I didn’t tell anyone about it. I love it so much, I know you understand, and I wasn’t about to let anyone take that away from me again. I told Lardo a few months ago, but I made her promise not to tell anyone.”

Jack nodded slowly. “I can understand why,” he said quietly.

Bitty looked at him sideways. “It’s why I get it if you’re scared to tell your friends about choir,” he said carefully.

“I’m not scared, exactly, I just…it’s complicated,” Jack said, letting out a sigh when Bitty remained quiet, waiting for him to continue. “I’m not supposed to skate in the mornings,” he said eventually, knowing it was a bit of a jump in the conversation. “My therapist told me I skate too much. That’s why I’m in choir in the first place; she said I need new hobbies or something.”

Bitty cracked a smile at that. “Funny, that’s what my therapist said too.”

“You see a therapist too?” Jack asked quietly.

“I’ve been told that you don’t get locked in a literal closet overnight or a metaphorical closet for years without ending up with PTSD or something,” Bitty replied, darting a nervous look over at Jack, as though worried that he’d revealed too much. “So. Yeah.  I see a therapist for that. Not all that often anymore, but still once in a while.”

“I have anxiety,” Jack blurted out. “You’ve probably figured that out already, after what happened last performance, but. Yeah. I put a lot of pressure on myself, my therapist says.” He took a long pause before he spoke again. “And that euh…metaphorical closet that you mentioned. I’m familiar with that too.”

“Yeah?” Bitty said, coming to a stop in front of the bench and looking up at Jack who nodded wordlessly. “Well, there you go. I guess we have more in common than I thought.”

“I guess we do,” Jack replied with a slight smile.

“How are you feeling about our duet today?” Bitty asked, grabbing his phone off the boards and fiddling with it.

Jack shrugged. “Definitely not as nervous as last time, I guess,” he said uncertainly. “But still not very confident.”

Bitty nodded and started his music up again. “Let’s do it now then, come on,” he said, pushing off from the boards as the opening chords of ‘Halo’ played from his phone.

“Just…here? While we skate?” Jack asked, catching up to Bitty, who nodded.

“Yep! The acoustics are a little different but it’s good practice,” he replied, then launched into the opening lyrics.

Jack grinned and joined in.

//

 **The Shits** : _Dude! Lardo told me you rocked your duet today! I’m sorry I missed it, I had that mandatory ‘figure out what you’re doing after graduation’ meeting with my guidance counsellor._

**Captain Zimms:** _Hey, Shits. Thanks. Yeah, it wasn’t too bad. Did you figure out what you’re doing after graduation then?_

**The Shits:** _Of course not._

**Captain Zimms:** _Ha._

**Captain Zimms:** _I came out to Bittle today._

**The Shits:** _Yo, nice! How did that go? Are you feeling okay about it?_

**Captain Zimms:** _It was good. I feel good._

**The Shits:** _Glad to hear it, bro._

**Captain Zimms:** _He came out to me too._

**Captain Zimms:** _Don’t tell anyone._

**The Shits:** _Obviously I would never._

**The Shits** _: But yo!!! Now it’s #confirmed that neither of you are straight! That opens up some exciting possibilities…_

**Captain Zimms:** _Shut up. Goodnight._

**The Shits:** _See you tomorrow, dude._

//

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I have an idea._

**Eric Bittle:** _What’s that?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I was planning out tomorrow’s hockey practice and thinking about how we really have to work on our agility, speed, and footwork._

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _And I think having a figure skater teach us some drills or something would be really helpful._

**Eric Bittle:** _Jack…_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Just hear me out, okay?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _The guys on the team are good people. They would never make fun of you for being a figure skater. They have a lot of respect for anyone who’s mastered something athletic like you have. I think they would learn a lot and have a lot of fun, and I think you would too._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Obviously I can’t force you to do this and I’ll completely understand and respect it if you really don’t want to. I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else and I would never tell anyone about skating without your permission._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _But just consider it, okay?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _And even if you say no, I would still really like to skate with you again sometime, if that’s okay with you._

**Eric Bittle:** _I’ll think about it and let you know, okay?_

**Jack Zimmermann** _Okay. Thanks, Eric._

**Eric Bittle:** _And we can certainly skate together again sometime._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Can’t wait. Say when and I’ll be there._

**Eric Bittle:** _Oh, and good job with the duet again today! I know I’ve already said it but you were amazing._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Thanks, Bittle. You definitely carried us but I’m glad you don’t feel like I’m dragging you down or anything._

**Eric Bittle** _: Definitely not._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Good._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Hey, don’t you have a French quiz tomorrow?_

**Eric Bittle:** _Sure do._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Go review your verb conjugations before you go to sleep._

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay, okay. Goodnight, Jack._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Goodnight, Eric._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me so far! As usual, I can't promise when the next chapter will come, but it will eventually!
> 
> The rest of this fic is going to be relatively lighthearted but these two still need to have the occasional serious conversation.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Bitty's turn to captain the hockey team!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does this high school sports team have no teacher supervisor? That's a great question, it really is. I wish I had an answer.

**Eric Bittle:** _Okay, I’ll do it._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Yeah? You will?_

**Eric Bittle:** _Yeah. Once a week, but not right before I have a competition._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Of course. Thank you. What day works for you?_

**Eric Bittle:** _I can do Mondays after school?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _That’s perfect. Shitty is going to be overjoyed._

**Eric Bittle:** _Ha! You think so?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Definitely._

//

In vocal class on Monday, Bitty practically bounced out of his seat with excitement when he saw the hat sitting at the front of the room.

“Alright everyone, sitting with your duet partners today, please,” Ms. Thompson called, giving them a moment to rearrange themselves before picking up the hat and beginning to speak again. Jack gave Bitty a small smile as he pulled his chair up beside him. Bitty ignored the small flip in his stomach.

“The theme for your next duets is classic rock. This can be a bit trickier to arrange as a duet so I encourage you all to get creative. As usual, you’ll pull your artist from the hat.”

Bitty had deflated slightly when he’d heard the theme. Classic rock wasn’t really his thing. It made him think of long road trips stuck in the truck with his parents. He may have been disappointed but he hasn’t missed the way Jack had perked up a bit in his seat Ms. Thompson got closer with the hat.

“You pick,” Bitty said to Jack, when the hat reached them, and then watched as Jack pulled out their artist, read it, and slowly let a huge smile take over his face. Bitty couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “What?” he asked impatiently. “Who did we get?”

“Queen,” Jack replied, the excitement in his voice barely contained.

“Queen,” Bitty repeated blankly. The only Queen he could think of was Beyonce, but that couldn’t be right.

“You know, like Bohemian Rhapsody? We Will Rock You? We Are the Champions? They always play that one over the speakers when we win a game,” Jack explained, looking shocked at Bitty’s ignorance.

Bitty hummed thoughtfully. “That does ring some bells,” he replied. “Well. It was your turn to pick a song anyway, so this works out well!”

“Yeah,” Jack replied, still smiling. “I’ll let you know on Wednesday what I come up with.”

“Perfect,” Bitty said, smiling back, pleased to see Jack excited about their duet.

The rest of class passed in a blur of Ms. Thompson explaining the written report they’d have to submit in a few weeks’ time, and then the bell was ringing to send them all off to fifth period.

“I’ll see you soon, eh? At the rink around 3:15?” Jack said, as they both stood to leave. “There’s no rush, it usually takes the guys a little while to all get there.”

“I’ll be there,” Bitty promised, trying not to let his nerves show on his face.

“Good,” Jack said, smiling again before heading out of the room.

Bitty had to take a moment to collect himself before he followed. Who did Jack think he was, giving him those soft smiles, multiple times in an hour? Didn’t he know what they could do to a boy?

//

SMH Group Chat

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Don’t be late for practice today. 3:15 sharp. And don’t put on your pads._

**Ransom:** _No pads? Why?_

**Shitty:** _Jack Laurent Zimmermann, stop texting in class._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Shits, you and I both know that we have a substitute teacher and we’re doing research for a project I’ve already finished. Besides, you’re right beside me, and I can see you googling moustache grooming tips._

**Shitty:** _You got me there, Captain._

**Holster:** _Back to the whole no pads thing, what’s going on?_

**Johnson:** _It’s all a metaphor, bros. When we take off our hockey pads, we take off some of the armour that prevents us from being vulnerable and letting people get close enough to know who we really are._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Uh…sure. Thanks, Johnson. See you all at 3:15. No pads._

**Ransom:** _Still really unclear on the whole no pads thing, but okay._

**Holster:** _Rans? Do you think that we’ve been allowing our hockey pads to prevent us from becoming the closest bros we could be?_

**Ransom:** _I don’t think so, bro. You know everything there is to know about me._

**Holster:** _Okay, good. Me too. You’re my best friend, bro._

**Ransom:** _You’re mine too, bro. With or without the metaphorical hockey pad armour._

**Holster:** _Bro <3_

**Wicks:** _Get a room._

**Shitty:** _This is beautiful, I’m going to cry._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I can confirm that he is tearing up._

**//**

After fifth period, Bitty changed into his fleece leggings in a bathroom stall, afraid that if he used the locker room he’d run into the hockey team. He grabbed his skates from where he’d left them safely tucked away in the choir room and made his way to the rink. He was lacing up on the bench when Jack emerged from the locker room, Shitty trailing not far behind.

“Bittay!!!!!” Shitty exclaimed upon noticing him. “What are you doing here? Joining the team?

“Uh…no. Definitely not. I don’t have the right skates, for one,” Bitty replied, gesturing down at his toe picks.

“Sit down, Shits. Bittle, out here with me, if that’s okay,” Jack said, stepping out on to the ice.

Bitty nodded and quickly finished lacing up his skates before joining Jack out on the ice. Jack smiled at him and Bitty returned it nervously.

“So, I figured we’d explain what’s going on, do a quick five minute warmup and then they’re all yours,” Jack said quietly. “Sound okay?”

“Sounds okay,” Bitty said with a nod.

Over the next couple of minutes, the rest of the team trickled out of the locker room, and all gave Bitty curious looks and began murmuring amongst themselves as Jack had them all join Shitty on the bench.  Ransom and Holster gave him a wave when they emerged, but they looked just as confused as everyone else. Eventually, Jack clapped his hands once and everyone hushed nearly instantly.

“We’re doing things a little differently today,” he said. “I’ve been saying for a while now that as a team and as individuals, we need to work on our speed and dexterity, myself included. And I’ve found someone to help us do just that. This is Eric Bittle, he’s an amazing figure skater, and he’s also your coach for today, possibly on a regular basis depending on how this goes.”

“Hi, y’all,” Bitty said, trying not to sound as timid as he felt, standing in front of the whole hockey team. “You can call me Bitty, if you like.”

“Dude, where did you find a figure skater willing to work with us?” one of Jack’s teammates asked. Bitty didn’t recognize him, but his jersey read ‘Nurse’.

Bitty turned to Jack, uncertain about how to answer, but Jack hardly hesitated before replying.

“We’re partnered up in choir this semester and I only found out the other day that Bitty skates. He’s incredible.”

“Oh, hush you, don’t get their hopes up,” Bitty said, knowing that his cheeks were pink. “I haven’t had much practice with hockey teams but I’ll do my best.” He smiled at Jack, his nerves dissipating slightly.

“Wait, Jack, are you telling me that you’ve been singing in choir this whole semester and none of us have gotten to hear it?” Ransom asked indignantly.

 “I got to hear them sing,” Shitty said proudly. “Their duets are magical.”

“Anyways,” Jack interrupted, glaring at Shitty, then at Ransom and Holster, who had launched into complaints of how unfair it was that Shitty had heard Jack sing. “Listen to Bittle today, he’s in charge.”

“Alright then. Five minutes for some stretching and a few laps, then we’ll get started,” Bitty instructed, smiling to himself as the team immediately got up and did as he’d instructed.

//

By the end of practice, Bitty could not stop grinning.

The team as a whole was wonderful, and changed everything Bitty had ever thought sports teams could be. They were all willing to try everything he suggested, and they certainly teased each other but it was in a friendly way. No one made fun of him, and everyone had gasped and applauded whenever he demonstrated anything, even things that really weren’t all that impressive. They were all funny, and charming, and Bitty genuinely enjoyed his time spent with them.

He had to hurry off when they’d finished, because his Mama had come to pick him up and was waiting in the parking lot, but he left with four new phone numbers scrawled on a piece of toilet paper (Shitty, Ransom, Holster, and a lovely enthusiastic boy who went by Chowder), nearly twenty new friend requests on facebook, and a standing invitation to join them at practice or their lunch table anytime he wanted.

He was beaming when he slid into the car.

//

**Eric Bittle:** _Hey! Sorry I had to hurry off, Mama was waiting for me._

**Eric Bittle:** _I just wanted to say thank you. I had a lot of fun, and your team is wonderful._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I’m really glad you liked them. I was worried they’d make a terrible first impression, haha._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _They loved you. They didn’t stop talking about you in the locker room and some of them are still texting me about you. And this is all without even knowing about all your delicious baking._

**Eric Bittle:** _Oh, I’m so relieved that they like me._

**Eric Bittle:** _I would love to do that again. If you want me to._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I would love that. And so would the team._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _You were great. I learned a lot. I hurt in places I didn’t even know I had muscle, ha._

**Eric Bittle:** _That means I did my job right. ;)_

//

**Unknown Number:** _Itty Bitty! Light of my life! The sun to my moon and the moon to my stars!_

**Eric Bittle:** _Um? Hello?_

**Unknown Number:** _Oh, this is Shitty, btw._

**Eric Bittle:** _Oh! Hi, Shitty. Sorry, I haven’t had the chance to save all your contacts yet._

**Shitty Knight:** _No worries, bro. I just wanted to say that today was awesome. And thank you for your patience even though I was terrible._

**Eric Bittle:** _I’m glad you enjoyed it! That’s really sweet of you to say. And no need to thank me! You’ll get better with practice._

**Shitty Knight:** _Thanks, dude. Anyways. I also wanted to invite you to our team bonding night. This weekend, my parents are out of town, and I always like to take advantage of the solitude for some team loving. It’ll be super chill, we’ll just hang out, watch movies, probably High School Musical. You’re welcome to sleep over if you want. I invited Lardo too._

**Eric Bittle:** _Oh, that sounds real fun! Thank you so much for including me, y’all are honestly such sweethearts. I’ll be there._

**Shitty Knight:** _Yaaaas Bittaayyy!!!! Sw’awesome. Can’t wait._

**Eric Bittle:** _Me too! :)_

**//**

**Lardo:** _Yo, how was the hockey team?_

**Bitty:** _Oh, Lardo, they were so lovely, I had such a nice time._

**Bitty:** _And Shitty invited me to team bonding night! I hear you’ll be there too._

**Lardo:** _Yeah, should be fun. I love a good sleepover._

**Bitty:** _Mhm…_

**Bitty:** _;) ;) ;)_

**Lardo:** _Omg shut up._

//

**Eric Bittle:** _You’ll be at Shitty’s team bonding night this weekend, right?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Yeah, I’ll be there. Shitty would never let me live it down if I missed it._

**Eric Bittle:** _Oh, good. He invited me, and of course your team is lovely, but it’ll be more fun if you’re there._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I think it’ll be more fun with you there too._

**Eric Bittle:** _Omg, stop it, you flatterer, you’ll make me blush._

**Eric Bittle:** _I should bake something to bring! What do you think they’d want? A pie? Cookies? Squares?_

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Believe me, they’ll be thrilled no matter what you bring._

**Eric Bittle:** _I hope you’re right._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _I am right._

**Eric Bittle:** _Jack. I also just wanted to say that it was real brave of you to tell them about choir._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Well, it was really brave of you to take on the task of teaching figure skating techniques to a hockey team. I figured if you could face that, then I could face the chirps about choir._

**Eric Bittle:** _You’re sweet. I guess we were both brave today._

**Eric Bittle:** _Anyways, I should let you get to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jack._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _See you tomorrow, Bittle._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Oh, wait. I forgot to tell you. Listen to the song ‘Somebody to Love’ by Queen. I think we could make it work for our duet._

**Eric Bittle:** _Will do. Goodnight, Jack._

**Jack Zimmermann:** _Goodnight, Eric._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will every chapter end with them saying goodnight to each other? Stay tuned to find out.


End file.
